


FFXIV Write 2020 Fills

by silvers_shadows



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, No Beta We Die Like Ascians, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvers_shadows/pseuds/silvers_shadows
Summary: A collection of my prompt fills for FFXIV Write 2020. Mainly backstory for my WoL, C'trianah Verr and her husband C'thanos.Rating may change as we progress. Unbeta-d, may be polished "later".
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10
Collections: Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched Bookclub FFXIV-Writes 2020 Collection, Final Fantasy Write Prompt Challenge 2020





	1. Crux

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 1 - Crux
> 
> Before they became the Warriors of Light, they were simple Miqo'te with unusual skills. Or, Tria has to decide and Thanos "helps".

Twelve above, he was the _last_ person she wanted to see stood by the door to the bathing pools. C’hurr Nunh had his usual twisted smile on his face, and made no attempt to hide his slow perusal of Tria’s form, smirk broadening as his gaze slid over her hips and breasts.

“Well good morning there Trianah.” He purred, and she couldn’t bite back her snarl.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to address me as such, C’hurr.” The disrespect in using her intimate name twisted in the Seeker woman’s gut, and her chest tightened with anxiety as he lifted away from the door, stepping into her personal space. “In fact, I know I didn’t.”

“Tsk tsk,” The Nunh admonished her with a shake of his blond head, still smiling as his brown eyes eventually deigned to reach hers. “I see I’m going to have my work cut out for me bringing _you_ in line.”

Her silver-furred tail snapped angrily behind her; ears high on her head in indignation. “You may be _a_ Nunh, C’hurr, but you are not _my_ Nunh. Not now, and not ever.” She crossed her arms over her chest reflexively, blue eyes burning with fury. “You, as always, assume too much.”

To her disgust, he simply laughed. “Ohh Tria, still imagining your little Tia will come running to your defence? Wasn’t the fact we drove him out _four years ago_ enough to persuade you otherwise?” The male drew himself to his full height, but given he barely had an ilm on her, the effect was not as imposing as he might have wished, and Tria bit back a bitter laugh.

“I hardly see leaving to hone his gifts as being driven away, C’hurr.” She replied, a sudden calmness washing over her as her sensitive ears picked up the sound of voices approaching. The Nunh was less likely to try something stupid in front of an audience.

His ears flicked in irritation as he too picked up the others approach. “It is your eighteenth Nameday Tria. Today you decide your Nunh. There is no changing that fact, no matter how much you delude yourself your little Tia will save you.” With that, he casually strolled away, leaving her internally fuming.

C’thanos _was_ coming today. He had to.

\--

As the day drew on, C’trianah’s mood continued to sour. After her confrontation with C’hurr first thing, numerous small annoyances had piled on top of her until she was ready to snap. By mid-afternoon, the Miqo’te had seriously considered throwing her meagre belongings into her pack and just _leaving_. If it wasn’t the older women throwing mating advice her way, it was the sudden demands on her healing skills, the same demands that had meant she hadn’t managed to fall into her bedroll until the small hours of the morning – admittedly, she couldn’t be angry about that particular instance, given the horrific outcome she and the midwife had managed to avoid with a first time mother and unexpectedly early twins – for small and in some cases absolutely _stupid_ reasons.

“Seriously,” she muttered to herself, “Who calls a Healer for a _papercut_?”

Tria scrubbed her eyes and sighed. She still had the dinner to get through tonight, a coming of age tradition amongst her Tribe, where she was expected to declare which Nunh she had chosen. The C was large enough to boast several Nunh amongst them, branched off across several settlements. Deciding her Nunh meant deciding where she would live, what she would do, who she would _be._ It was no small matter, something she was supposed to have spent at least the last year deciding, travelling amongst the outposts and searching for where she would call home.

C’hurr was the younger of the two Nunh in her home settlement, at barely twenty-five summers. His own ascension had been a matter of some controversy, claims made of improper challenge of his predecessor, and unnecessary roughness that had left the previous Nunh permanently disabled. The C Tribe prided itself on fair challenges, and fights to the death were heavily frowned upon – many Nunh were skilled warriors and hunters, the loss of their knowledge and ability to train future generations often felt heavily when it occurred. Her own father still shared his knowledge of the bow with the younger members of the tribe to this day.

But her options to remain within the settlement were limited to C’hurr. The other Nunh, C’rhan was too close a family tie, being the full-blood brother of her own mother. Part of the tribe’s success had been careful management of families, and even without that, the thought of mating with her own uncle made Tria’s skin crawl as much as the thought of C’hurr. There had been murmurs of the elders proposing a tournament for a third Nunh within the settlement, the numbers expanding such that there would be a need, but C’hurr had been vocal in his opposition to the idea, and it was still being discussed. By the time a decision had been made, it would be far too late for her.

Tria was drawn from her musings by a disturbance at the front of the camp, a flurry of chocobos riding in, wagons rolling behind, confused shouts, and by the time she had hurried to the commotion, a voice. _His_ voice.

C’thanos Tia had come home.

\--

He was exhausted, the ride back to the C Tribe encampment delayed by some idiot bandits on the road he could have done without, but Thanos felt a wave of relief as he and the merchants rolled into the settlement by late afternoon. Baby blue eyes scanned the crowd drawn by the wagon and its accompanying riders, most eagerly welcoming the arrival of new wares, until they settled on an achingly familiar shade of silver fur.

 _C’Trianah_.

He self-consciously dragged a hand through chestnut hair, tail flicking behind him anxiously as he moved his eyes away before she caught his gaze, dismounting his chocobo with ease, and moving to stable her. Gavinia pressed her beak to his chest, and the Moqi’te laughed, scratching his hands down her neck soothingly.

“You did good, girl.” He murmured quietly, easing the saddle off her back and smiling. A soft kweh was his only reply as Thanos checked she had adequate food and water within easy reach, before strolling out of the stable.

He did not expect to be greeted by a snarling C’hurr.

“What do _you_ think you’re doing back here, Tia?” The elder male spat; eyes narrowed as he stared angrily at the other.

“I’m sorry?” Thanos replied blandly, blinking slowly. “I wasn’t aware the elders had exiled me. As far as I know, I left to pursue my thaumaturge training in Ul’dah, and I was free to return whenever I chose.” He drew himself to his full height, standing several ilms taller than the Nunh, which only served to deepen C’hurr’s snarl.

“You mean you ran away, rather than challenge.” His words were practically a shout, and they had drawn a crowd now, Thanos noticed to his chagrin. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned things to go.

“Challenge? At seventeen summers?” Thanos chuckled, shaking his head. “Given I wasn’t even considered of age until my eighteenth Nameday, C’hurr, that would have been ambitious. I fear you drastically misread the situation.”

Brown eyes narrowed and Thanos could tell he was pushing dangerously close to an edge with the other man. “You should use my title when addressing me, _Tia._ I am a Nunh of this Tribe, and I will have your respect.”

“Respect is earnt, not given.” Was the soft, but pointed, reply. The brown-furred Miqo’te was painfully aware of the eyes on him as they sparred verbally, and inwardly he sighed. He knew where this was going.

“So, you challenge my position?” C’hurr crowed. “You ride back into this place having been gone for _four years_ , and your first action is to disparage me?” His tone was goading, the implication obvious – that the Tia in front of him would back down.

Thanos pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “You always were one to overreact C’hurr.” He muttered, before looking back at the Nunh. “Fine. Yes. I challenge you.”

Everyone went silent.

\--

C’trianah stared, open mouthed, along with the rest of those gathered around the pair. She hadn’t expected C’hurr to react this angrily to C’thanos’ return, let alone to leave himself so wide open to a fight like that. And yet, not even a bell after he had ridden back into camp, C’thanos was to challenge to be Nunh. Her life was at a crossroads, and she was not going to be the one to decide its direction.


	2. Sway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Sway
> 
> I apologise now for the lack of any semblance of a chronological order. And the teeth-rotting sweetness of this fluffy ficlet.

The sun was still abed as C’trianah stirred, conscious of two things – the soft, snuffled cry of an unhappy baby, and the absence of her husband by her side. Her silver ears flicked anxiously as the former faded, but the worry soon passed as her sleep-addled brain put two and two together. C’thanos was not in bed, because the baby was crying.

Tria rubbed the palm of her hand across her eyes. Gods above, being a new mother was exhausting, but as soon as she had laid eyes on C’rhina she had been head-over-heels in love. As she swung her legs out of bed, feet scrabbling on the floor before sliding into the carbuncle slippers Thanos had brought her one Starlight festival, a soft smile crossed her face. Rhina was probably hungry, which meant Thanos would require rescuing, given he was ill-equipped to handle that particular task for an exclusively breastfed baby.

She padded quietly over to the door that divided the bedroom of their apartment from the receiving room, figuring her husband had taken their daughter from her crib before she had chance to wake her mother, and the sight that met her eyes just melted her heart.

C’thanos stood in the middle of the room, his back to the doorway, gently swaying from side to side as he hummed an old Moqi’te lullaby. C’rhina’s head was nestled on his shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep as her father rocked her, tufts of russet hair stuck this way and that as her ears twitched in time with the song. Tria leant against the frame with a smile, watching her husband’s tail move in time with his body, almost hypnotic in its smooth rhythm.

“There now,” Thanos rumbled softly, as he shifted Rhina from his shoulder to his arms, turning to bring her back to bed. The rest of his thought was never vocalised as he realised Tria was watching, his smile turning sheepish.

“I didn’t want her to wake you. I would have got you if she was hungry, but I think she was just wanting to be held.”

Blue eyes danced with love as they met, his baby blue to her sapphire, albeit hazy with sleep. She crossed the room almost soundlessly, sliding one arm under his cradling Rhina, and the other around his waist as she leaned up for a kiss. “She takes after her mother then?” Tria asked softly, leaning into him as her tail twined around his.

Chestnut ears perked as Thanos smiled, adjusting his grip to hold Rhina in one arm, the other around his wife’s waist as they cradled their sleeping daughter.

Slowly, they swayed together.


	3. Muster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3 - Muster
> 
> Which apparently is the group name for peacocks. You're welcome.

Twilight Sanctuary fell on the smaller side of Free Companies, more “rag-tag bunch” than true band of siblings in arms. In truth, C’thanos had formed it after C’trianah complained they were constantly being pestered with petitions from other companies to join their ranks, and their fellow members had been picked up along the way through bonds of friendship.

Of those, Tria was probably closest to Bliss. A fellow Seeker possessed of a similar personality and spark for life, Thanos would have sworn the two were sisters, almost worryingly so at times given their penchant for ganging up on him to tease him mercilessly, or rout whatever gang of miscreants was bothering the locals. Basically, if Bliss and Tria were together, someone or something was going to regret that. Twelve help you if it was the three of them.

It was at her direction they had set out today – a cryptic note dropped off by the delivery Moogle at their apartment this morning had Tria’s ears twitching, accompanied by a second that was labelled to not be opened until their arrival. Neither of the Verrs were familiar with the location described beyond it being “somewhere in the Shroud”, but they’d taken the opportunity for a relaxed ride on their Chocobo and some peace and quiet. The large white bird had been a gift at their wedding, and in truth Tria enjoyed the opportunity to lean back into her husband’s chest as he guided them onward, relaxed and safe in his arms.

“We’re nearly there, I think,” Thanos murmured softly, nuzzling his wife with a tender smile, and she sat up, stretching. “Looks like a farm of some sort. Maybe they need help with something?”

“Maybe, but Bliss didn’t exactly say it was urgent.” Tria replied, blinking as she scanned the area. The track did lead to a cluster of buildings her brain interpreted as “farm”, accompanied by various fields and the scents commonly associated with animal husbandry, but sensitive ears picked up on unusual noises from that direction and she was suddenly insatiably curious.

It was then she looked out to her left and saw them. Sweeping over the small hillock of the field, a riot of shades of blue and green, interspersed with dappled black and white and hints of tan, accompanied by loud, squawking cries. Their Chocobo was her usual unflappable self, but Tria’s eyes were wide as she stared at the birds, fanning their tails in glorious display.

“Those… are gorgeous…” She exclaimed, “Oh my gosh Thanos they’re beautiful. Those colours, the patterns… This must be a breeder for them.”

He nodded, smile wide at his wife’s delight, and urged their mount forward. The couple was soon at a large rambling building, accompanied by what looked like stables, greeted by a smiling blonde Elezen woman who urged them from their Chocobo and quickly handed it off to a pair of Hyur stablehands.

“Welcome to Perfectly Proud Peacocks!” She exclaimed, silver eyes shining at the couple. “Considering a purchase today?”

Tria scrambled in her pack then, remembering the second envelope, and pulled it out with a triumphant cry. “We were sent here by a friend,” She began, ripping at the seal before scanning over the letter, “She… oh my Gods Thanos she got me a damn bird!”

_Tria_

_Soon as I saw the colours they basically screamed your name, that and you’re always adopting things. And encouraging me to adopt things. Anyway, I did a few jobs around the place, so there’s a bird with your name on it._

_Not literally, that would be weird._

_Bliss_

_PS: Would have got Thanos one too but we all know he’s too obsessed with that damn bike of his._

Thanos grumbled under his breath at the jibe even as the proprietor swept his wife away excitedly, then chuckled softly to himself. The silver-furred Moqi’te was bouncing with excitement as she was led along, broad smile on her face and ears practically wiggling off her head as the two chattered about care and maintenance of her new feathered friend. They were going to need a bigger stable, and Livinia was going to be _very_ put out if the Chocobo’s reaction to having Gavina, and later Snow join them was any indication.

But Bliss had been right about one thing – Tria adopted things. A lot. It was one of the many reasons he loved her, even if plushie mountain was becoming an issue in the bedroom, or her mammet collection was slightly terrifying in its number. Her heart was a seemingly never-ending wellspring and she loved openly, often and with a force to be reckoned with.

And for that, in his eyes, she was more glorious than any feathered display.


	4. Clinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 4 - Clinch
> 
> Which I wrestled with for two days before using three definitions in not many words.  
> Warning: Cheesy as all get out.

C’trianah watched interestedly C’thanos’ calloused hands worked, silver-furred ears tilted forward in concentration as he slowly demonstrated the knot to her again, securing the fishing hook to the line.

“It’s called a clinch knot,” he told her with a smile, “Keeps the hook and bait pretty secure.”

Thanos had been eager to introduce his new wife to the art of fishing, both as a form of extra income for them both, and as a way to spend time together to relax. She’d taken to it better than the Miqo’te could have hoped, and now her skill with a rod was easily at the same level as his own she was begging him to teach her the intricacies, knotwork included.

His blue eyes fixed firmly on her nimble fingers as she repeated his work, easily replicating the knot with a smile and handing the hook and line to him to inspect.

“Excellent!” He declared, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead before handing the tools back to her. “Lets go fish!”

\--

When the Fisherman’s Guild began to commission ocean fishing voyages, it was a no-brainer that the pair would indulge at every opportunity. The light-hearted competition amongst those taking the trip bolstered everyone’s spirits, and the technicolour fireworks of aether that accompanied an especially prized catch were a sight to behold.

This trip, however, was shaping up to be a bit of a bust, when Tria suddenly cried out “Here we go!”, reeling in her fish with a shower of light as the aethercurrent drifted under the boat, clinching her place as the most popular passenger of the day as the others began their hauls.

Thanos chuckled as many patted her on the back or raised their hand in appreciation, chestnut tail swaying in the ocean breeze as Tria turned to face him, eyes alight with pleasure. He drew her close and kissed her softly, to the hoots and hollers of many aboard.

“Ey you two, the only clinches on this boat are supposed to be knots!”


	5. Matter of Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5 - Matter of Fact
> 
> Ugh. This was hard. And it sucks. Vaguely angsty.

The Coeurl Tribe had thrown a celebration when its two wayward children returned triumphant; the festivities only growing as C’rhina Thanos was introduced to her many aunts and associated relations amongst the revellers. C’trianah was relieved when one of her sisters quietly whispered in her ear that C’hurr Tia, the former Nunh C’Thanos had so easily deposed, had been sent to another settlement. She barely had chance to introduce her daughter before the babe was lifted from her arms, passed from woman to woman to be cooed over and adored. Thanos merely smiled at his daughter’s popularity as he slid his arm around his wife’s waist, kissing her temple tenderly.

C’mhina Verr laughed at the bemused expression on her sister’s face. “Oh, come now Trianah,” She admonished her with a grin, jade eyes sparkling, “You had to know we’d be playing pass the baby at the first opportunity. After all, the elders want to fawn and the youngers, well, they want an idea of what their babies will be like if they declare C’thanos.”

Tria’s expression froze, and Thanos immediately tightened his grip around her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her side even as silver ears twitched with repressed emotion. The matter of fact way her sister had thrown the statement out there was just a reminder that to Seekers, she was an oddity. Her heart belonged to him, and his to her, their aether mingled in a way few had ever seen before that only solidified their bond.

But tribal expectations couldn’t be ignored, despite learning upon their return that the third Nunh had been instated after C’thanos had spirited her away. Many looked upon what they were doing as mere youthful experimentation, assuming the pair would soon bore of travelling and fighting and come home to fulfil their duties. In truth, Tria much preferred her little home with Thanos, away from the business and bustle of tribal life, the overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by so many people, each of whom knew each other’s business, for better or worse.

Thanos’ tail had curled itself around hers while she had been lost in thought, and she leant into her husband with a sigh. “He does make pretty babies.” She replied with a half-smile, drawing a chuckle from C’mhina. “Rhina has been charming everyone she met since she was born, from innkeeps to some of our most vaunted leaders.”

She was half tempted to tell the tale of Ser Aymeric becoming almost _flustered_ by the offer to hold her daughter, rather than just admire her from afar, but her fondness for the Lord Commander held her tongue, instead regaling those around her with Tataru’s delight at no longer being, as she put it, ‘the Littlest Scion’. Her husband was nuzzling her hair as she spoke, and calmness returned to her, aided by good food and better company. The matter of Thanos’ position was a worry for another day.

For now, she would enjoy being home with her family.


	6. Prediction (free day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6 - Prediction
> 
> Today is technically a "free" day so I used a random word generator.  
> If you haven't started Shadowbringers, I'd give this one a miss.

Prediction

C’trianah hadn’t thought much of the Mord’s offhand comment about there being three of her at the time, too busy trying to track down Alisae in Ahm’Areng and still trying to acclimate to the First. Then there had been the ugly business with the Sin Eater and Tesleen, the wrenching transformation leaving her sick to her stomach with a nausea she couldn’t shake.

C’Thanos was fussing over her back at Journey’s End, but she shooed him off, sending him to check on their red mage friend who no doubt felt the hurt more deeply than they, promising to let him know if she felt worse. Thankful she’d taken to carrying ginger biscuits ever since she’d discovered she was pregnant with C’rhina, the familiar taste was soothing.

It wasn’t until they were back in the Crystarium, going over their plans for Holminster Switch, that Tria realised there might be a problem. They had just finished loudly arguing between themselves over who would be responsible for soaking the Lightwarden’s essence when a dizzy spell hit her from nowhere, knocking her to her knees with an accompanying wave of nausea so strong she barely held back the urge to regurgitate her lunch.

Thanos was immediately knelt next to her, gently rubbing her back and pulling back her hair just in case, when he made a soft sound of recognition, and Tria groaned as she noticed too.

_Two tiny twin sparks of aether nestled within her belly._

“My friend, are you quite… Oh.” The Exarch paused, what little of his face she could see was unreadable, but Tria figured he had reached the same conclusion as they, given his familiarity with their aether, having reached across the stars to summon them to the First.

“Well, there goes the plan to split soaking up Lightwarden goop.” Tria managed, trying to keep her breathing steady even as the panic rose in her chest. The timing was terrible, and she _knew_ someone was going to try and shove her through the portal back to the Source at the first opportunity…

“Tria.” Her husband’s voice was soft, blue eyes full of concern as she met his gaze, chestnut ears tipped forward echoing the emotion.

“Can we fight about sending me home later? Alone? Because right now I just want to go to sleep for a week and given that’s not possible, we have a plan to finish.” She was suddenly very grateful they had sent Alphinaud and Alisae away after shoring up most of the ideas, leaving the three of them alone in the Occular. She didn’t need anyone else knowing right now, not when her thoughts were so jumbled and confused, silver tail flicking angrily behind her.

“You can’t expect to still do this,” Thanos said softly, helping her to her feet, hand curling protectively around her still-flat abdomen. “Not after everything you went through with C’rhina love.”

Tria turned to the Exarch, whose lips were pressed into a thin line. “I must say, I want to agree.” He said softly, “However, that is most definitely not my place. You two should take the evening alone to discuss matters.”

The Miqo’te sighed, deeply. “Just warn the guard. I don’t want my door breaking down because I end up screaming at him.” She replied tiredly, turning to leave. “But understand this. Once the decision is made, there will be no talking me out of, or into, anything. Are we clear?”

“At the risk of making a pun, crystal.” The Exarch replied, before glancing sadly at Thanos as Tria stalked out of the room.


	7. Nonagenarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7 - Nonagenarian
> 
> Spoilers for Shadowbringers storyline, brief mentions of character death.

The entirety of their jaunt into Rak’tika had been eventful to say the least. C’trianah was pretty sure C’thanos’ ears were still ringing from the dressing down Y’shtola had given them in private, her aethersight giving Tria no chance of hiding her condition from the other Miqo’te.

_Oh yes, get summoned to another world, that’s the perfect time to impregnate your wife! You should_ both _know better by now!_

But Y’shtola’s anger belied her concern, both for Tria’s insistence on following her husband, and Thanos’ absorption of Lightwarden essence. It seemed she too had hoped the pair would be able to share the burden of its liberation, and that hope had been dashed by her inconvenient conception. It seemed her time in the Greatwood had hardened her too, made her underlying steely resolve that bit more obvious, nevermore so obvious than her ire at the Crystal Exarch. Tria couldn’t help but agree with her on that point.

And then… Y’shtola fell.

To be more accurate, as they would recount later, Y’shtola _jumped_ , grasping desperately for the antidote to save the people who had adopted her as one of their own, who she in turn loved so overwhelmingly that the mage would happily sacrifice her own life for theirs. As Thanos clutched the precious bottle to his chest as carefully as he would C’rhina, Tria _screamed_ at the injustice of it all, voice breaking as their friend vanished from sight. It was only the briefest, momentary flicker of light that made them both pause, trading a knowing glance.

_Perhaps._

It rankled C’trianah that it had been _Emet-Selch_ of all people who drew Y’shtola back from the lifestream - she still couldn’t get a handle on the Ascian’s endgame, and it infuriated her almost as much as the Exarch’s reticence. And yet, their friend was here, hale and healthy, trading stories with the Viis after seeking permission to explore more of the ruins surrounding Qitana Ravel.

She snuggled back into Thanos’ chest as they admired Fanow together, their friends busy amongst themselves. Uimet strolled over to them with a slightly confused expression on her face, glancing over the pair as if trying to figure something out.

“So,” The Viis began, still looking puzzled. “I overheard your friends talking. You have a child at home, yes?”

“Yes.” Tria replied, expression lighting up, “C’rhina. She’s about three summers old now.”

Burgundy eyes widened. “You left her at home so… young?! Was she even weaned?”

Thanos chuckled. “Uimet. C’trianah herself is only twenty three, and I am twenty six.”

The Viis looked completely horrified. “Children! You’re both absolute _children_!” Her voice was so loud it drew the eyes of others, and Tria bit back a laugh. “I have seen over ninety summers and I wouldn’t even contemplate…”

“Oh, are we comparing ages now?” A dry voice interrupted, and Tria tensed. “Because if we are, I have _aeons_ on you all.” Emet-Selch smirked, glancing at the trio. “Surely you can find better uses for your time than… whatever this is, limited as it is.” His gaze became pointed directed at C’trianah. “Especially you my dear, I’d say you have precious few moons before you are utterly helpless, wouldn’t you?” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Tria only realised she was snarling when Thanos rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“What,” Uimet began, “Was _that_ all about?”

Tria shook her head. “When the time comes, I call dibs on being the first to punch that arrogant bastard in the face.”


	8. Clamour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 8 - Clamour
> 
> Continuing with the Shadowbringers spoilers.

It was done – the night had been returned to Norvrandt. The Warriors of Darkness had returned triumphant to the Crystarium, a battered and bruised but not broken Crystal Exarch – G’raha Tia – supported between them, exhausted but exuberant for his people.

C’trianah had shooed C’thanos off to their suite in the Pendants, judging that G’raha was more in need of her white mage skills at this time. Lyna ably assisted her in bundling the loudly protesting Exarch into the tower, and into his rooms off the Umbilicus. Tria had a moment to take in the sparseness of the décor before she and Lyna all but threw the Miqo’te on the bed, eyeing him critically.

“If we hadn’t already banished that bastard to… well, wherever, I’d be gunning to do it just for the mess he’s made of you.” She told G’raha quietly, running gentle hands over his body as she took stock of his wounds.

“You… should leave this to the Chiurgeons my friend,” He replied quietly, “Especially given…”

“Did I or did I not say no talking me out of or into anything, _G’raha Tia_?” Blue eyes met crimson, and he broke gaze first, turning to watch the soft glow of her aether spilling from her fingers as her healing magic went to work. “I am so utterly, _utterly_ infuriated with you right now I’m surprised I can talk, but my priority is patching you up. Just bear that in mind, hmm?”

Lyna made a soft sound of protest, but otherwise kept silent, clicking her heels together and striding from the room once she was certain the Exarch would recover.

Minutes passed as C’trianah worked her magic over him, eventually standing back with a tired smile. “There. Not much I can do for the bruising, that’s usually better to heal on its own, but everything else is set and repaired. You are going to feel like _shite_ for a few days. I recommend a long, hot bath and a change of clothes.” Tria unthinkingly reached up a hand and stroked her fingers over a silken russet ear, only pausing when G’raha made a soft, heartfelt noise of pleasure. “Shite, sorry. Just… my gods G’raha you’ve kept them restrained for a _century_ how have they not fallen off?”

He chuckled then, shaking his head sadly. “I am unsure, though my tail is probably worse for wear.”

“Wicked white G’raha do you have a masochistic streak? Please tell me you at least didn’t sleep in those bloody hooded robes.” A pause. “You don’t sleep much, do you?”

She took a moment to truly look at him then, his vibrant hair now streaked with white and matted with all kinds of filth, livid red marks across his skin visible through torn and tattered robes. The regions of his body given over to the tower seemed to have fared a little better, but even then, she noted chips and chinks in the crystal that drew back her rage from earlier, hands curling into fists by her sides.

“C’trianah.” He called her name softly, drawing her attention back to his face. “I shall bathe, and I shall rest. You should attend to your husband. Your Nunh.” He’d tried so hard to keep the bitter edge out of his voice, but it showed through when he uttered Thanos’ title, and her heart clenched.

_Why does everything have to be so complicated?_

There were a million things she could have said in that moment, her head aching and soul feeling pulled in every direction, but instead she gave him another tired smile and turned to leave, trying to hide her eyes brimming with tears.

She made it outside the door of the Umbilicus before they broke free, and she barely managed to choke out “Fao Ul, I need your help.”

The fae popped into the air almost instantaneously next to her, their voice uncharacteristically soft. “Ohh my [darling sapling], what can your branch do for you?”

“Get me to my husband? If I go out there… the crowd… I can’t…” She was sobbing hard now, seemingly unable to catch a breath, and the Fae nodded, wrapping their charge in faerie magick and gently depositing her onto her bed in the Pendants, into her confused and exhausted husband’s arms.

Thanos glanced questioningly at the pixie, but they merely shook their head, vanishing as quickly as they had arrived. He drew his wife into his chest, and waited. When she was ready, he would listen.


	9. Lush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 9 - Lush
> 
> Short, sappy, sweet. NO ANGST YAY ME.

It was moments like this that made it all worthwhile, C’thanos thought to himself, as his gaze slowly ran over his wife’s sleeping form. C’trianah was entering the last weeks of pregnancy, her belly heavily distended by their twins, and he thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Lit only by the moonlight filtering through the window of their apartment, she was almost some other ethereal being; the lush curves of her body emphasised by soft light and shadow.

Laid on her side, one arm under her head while the other cradled their unborn babes protectively, sheet gathered around her hips, he had the urge to tuck her in, to kiss her forehead and gather her into his arms. Instead Thanos stood watch just a little longer. She was comfortable, and she needed the rest.

Besides. He liked the view.


	10. Avail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 10 - Avail
> 
> Chronologically probably just after Holminster Switch. C'trianah takes Lyna up on an offer to teach her the ways of the Dancer. It draws a crowd.

The Exarch became aware of the… disturbance, as he exited the Tower in search of his Guard Captain. A crowd had gathered around the training grounds and at first, he was concerned, until he picked up on the jovial attitude, laughter and cheering directed toward two figures in the middle of the ring.

He saw C’thanos first, leant against a railing watching the pair intensely and opened his mouth to speak when he saw what was going on; Lyna was teaching C’trianah the use of chakrams. They weren’t sparring, Lyna one of the few aware of Tria’s newly-discovered condition, instead the Viis was showing her Miqo’te charge the graceful forms and stances of her chosen art. His mouth ran dry at the sight of her adorned in loose teal skirts and a bustier, sandals strapped high along her legs. She had always been elegant in her dress, but the combination of flowing fabric and her carefree, joyful approach to being a Dancer was intoxicating.

“Don’t worry. She has that affect on a lot of people.” Thanos murmured quietly, and the Exarch wondered how he had been caught staring while his gaze was shielded from view. C’trianah’s Nunh wore a soft, proud smile, blue eyes still fixed on his wife. “It can be a very handy distraction.”

“I see she chose to avail herself of Lyna’s offer.” He managed in reply, proud of the fact his voice was steady and even despite the bewitching display. Until this point he had only ever seen her in her demure healers’ robes, and he couldn’t deny the vast expanses of skin on display drew his eye, her lithe movements shifting into something more base in his mind, stirring something within he’d long thought dead. _Hoped_ dead.

“After a long bout of arguing about how it was perfectly fine for her to exercise.” Thanos gave him a wry smile, chestnut ears flicking in amusement. “Your captain learnt _very_ quickly that you don’t try and coddle Tria if she doesn’t want to be.”

“A fact I am rapidly learning myself.” The older man laughed, as the two in the ring began to dance in unison. A hush fell over the gathering as the pair shifted around each other, weapons flying nimbly into assorted training dummies which met quick ends. The smooth artfulness of both Viis and Miqo’te was a sight to behold, and the Exarch couldn’t help but smile at the mixture of pride and joy on his adopted granddaughter’s face as she congratulated C’trianah on a job well done. “Though not as rapidly as C’trianah seems to pick up new skills.”

“Tria is terrifyingly focused when she puts her mind to something.” Thanos chuckled as his wife and her tutor approached, Lyna snapping a salute to the Exarch.

“I’m _always_ terrifying according to you.” Tria teased, slipping easily under her husband’s extended arm and into his embrace, his hand resting protectively across her exposed abdomen. “Its one of my charms.”

Lyna laughed, before turning to the Exarch. “Were you looking for me, my Lord?” Concern flickered across her features.

“Nothing that couldn’t wait until you were done here, not to worry Captain.” He offered the Viis a reassuring smile. “In fact, I do require the assistance of my friends here, perhaps we can discuss it over tea? I would assume you require refreshment after those… exertions.”

“You had me at tea.” Tria replied eagerly, and the quartet headed back to the Tower, leaving their impromptu crowd behind.


	11. Ultracrepidarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Ultracrepidarian 
> 
> AKA the prompt that made everyone go "Wait, what?!"

“At the risk of being impertinent,” Alisae began, addressing the assembled Scions and ignoring Thancred’s muttered _when has that ever stopped you,_ “What happens if C’trianah gives birth on the First?”

Several sets of eyes turned to G’raha Tia, who had gone very, very pale at the thought. “I… as you know, I did not exactly set out to summon C’thanos and C’trianah _both_.” He carried on despite Tria’s snort of protest, “Their co-mingled aether meant that reaching out for one brought two in this case. As we have seen, C’thanos is able to cross back and forth to the Source without detriment to either of them, and with his clothing and items intact.”

“You mean C’trianah _hasn’t_?” Ryne asked, frowning. “At all?”

“I… we didn’t think experimenting with her condition in the early stages was a good idea,” The Exarch stammered, desperately trying not to look in Tria’s direction, knowing she was giving him the _look_. “But given she holds them within herself, that is…”

“Wicked white, you don’t _know_ do you?” Thancred snapped, shaking his head.

“Thancred, don’t.” Tria said, firmly. “We – myself, Thanos and G’raha – decided attempting to cross before the kits were viable was too dangerous. If something happened, we wanted to give them the best chance of survival, and that meant waiting. You’re right, he doesn’t know what will happen. None of us do. And it’s not like G’raha is the one who knocked me up you know.”

The last remaining colour drained from G’raha’s face and he hide behind a crystal hand. “Right, well… I have been consulting with Beq Lugg, who agreed with our thinking. We just need to ensure C’trianah crosses back to the Source _before_ she gives birth and everything should be fine.”

Tria winced, trying to smother a hiss of pain as one of the twins jammed her rib _hard_ , and was suddenly very aware of every set of eyes in the room looking at her with a mix of concern and poorly concealed horror.

“Bad timing love,” Thanos chuckled, rubbing a hand across her belly soothingly. “I think G’raha nearly fainted.”

“I did not!” The Exarch protested weakly, “I merely… considered…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Please do not do that again C’trianah I beg you.”

“You want to tell C’lliope to stop playing taps on my ribs with her elbow then?” She shot back crankily, “Bad enough C’lyna is kicking my damn bladder like it’s a ball, I swear C’rhina was much better behaved than this at this point.”

“I do believe mother had similar complaints about us,” Alphinaud mused, “Mainly Alisae misbehav – oww!” His statement was cut short by Alisae flicking his ear and glaring at him.

“Mother was not adept enough at reading aether to know which of us was which, _brother._ ” She shot back, before smiling at Tria. “Though I feel I should apologise on the behalf of twins everywhere.”

The meeting broke up then, twins bickering back and forth as the others dispersed quietly, leaving only the Exarch his somewhat stunned-looking Guard Captain, who up until then had been silent.

“Did… did I mishear the Warrior?” She asked her adopted grandfather quietly, and G’raha smiled broadly at her.

“No.” He confirmed quietly. “Are you surprised though? You made a very lasting impression on her Lyna. On them both.”

“C’lyna.” She repeated softly, smiling broadly even as her eyes filled with tears. “I like it.”


	12. Tooth and Nail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Tooth and Nail
> 
> This chapter is rated M for sexual activity. 
> 
> ... well that escalated quickly. Chronologically around the end of Crystal Tower.

He hadn’t meant to catch them, let alone watch. When he had found the door to their rooms in the Rising Stones ajar, the last thing he had expected to see was the arch of C’trianah’s back as C’thanos sunk his teeth into her neck and bit down _hard._

It drew attention both to the inviting mounds of her bare breasts and her lush lips, parted in a silent cry of pleasure, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to kiss more, even as she bucked and writhed under her husband, his hands hard on her hips as he drove in deep from behind, her hands clenched tight into the bedroll beneath her.

“Thanos, Thanos _please_ ,” She begged softly, breathily, losing her battle to stay quiet as she was utterly owned and claimed by her Nunh, eyes rolling back in her head. “Please I need…”

“What?” Thanos growled into her ear, stilling his movements enough to make her whine, to grind back against him in a futile attempt for more. “Tell me Tria, tell me what you want, what you _need_.”

Hands tightened into fists as he resisted the urge to burst forth, to demand the male Miqo’te give his mate everything she desired, shame swamping him as he attempted to ignore the fire running through his veins, the throbbing pulse at his groin that stretched the laces of his breeches to near breaking point. Gods they were _beautiful_ together, how could he even think of himself in their bed by comparison?

“Tha…nos…” Tria cried out, tail lashing across her husband’s chest as he raked a hand down her back, leaving a trail of scratches she would feel for days under her healers robes, “Need your seed, breed me love, _please_.”

His hips snapped forward in reply, rhythm harsh and punishing, and she revelled in it, meeting him thrust for thrust as his hand disappeared under her, teasing her higher with skilled fingers. The figure in the doorway gripped the frame tight, determined not to surrender the last shred of his dignity and give in to the overwhelming urge to stroke himself in time with their pleasure even as Tria reached her peak.

And then, to his horror, her eyes met his, and he froze. But the revulsion he expected to see in those blue depths was not there, nor did she make any sound other than her cries of release, and as her mate found his own pleasure in her body, she simply mouthed one thing to him.

_Oh, G’raha._

He bolted.


	13. Free Day (no prompt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free Day - no prompt.
> 
> In which I am nice to my catboys. CW for consensual non-monogamy 
> 
> Tria likes to cuddle.

There were two things people learnt about C’trianah Verr very quickly; firstly, she was _tactile_. Depending on the other person’s comfort level, it varied from little touches of the hand or sweeping back stray hairs, to full body hugs and forehead kisses. It was always consensual, and those who avoided physical contact were never made to feel anything but warm friendliness from her, but if you were open to it, she was a toucher. It was also, if you knew how to read her, a good way to judge her mood. As Thancred had once said, “I always know when she’s angry with me because she won’t give me a hug, but if I scared her, she doesn’t let go.”

Secondly; she was _observant_. Little things others may not notice, she tended to pick up on, especially when it was to do with mood, or health. C’thanos put it down to growing up with healing talents, the slightest change in a condition a potential signifier for larger problems at play, but she often pointed out if someone they were close to needed a little extra attention, or space, and was correct.

So, it didn’t surprise him in the slightest when she turned to him and said, “Thanos, G’raha is _seriously_ touch starved. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone crazy.” He’d actually assumed something similar given how the archer had been eagerly receptive of Tria’s touch during their investigations of the Crystal Tower, in stark contrast to his self-isolation as the Exarch. Indeed, the only person he could assume he had any kind of contact with had been Lyna as a young child in his role as adoptive grandparent, and it wouldn’t surprise him that even that would have lapsed to nothing as she grew.

It also didn’t surprise him that she made it her personal mission to fix this. She started small, brushing his hand with hers, a casual side hug after a meeting, and G’raha practically melted just at these gestures. They had already discussed the fact that their fellow Miqo’te was at least attracted to Tria, if not harbouring deeper feelings, and Thanos had simply smiled and said “if you reciprocate, tell him”.

The incident in the Rising Stones had come just before G’raha had sealed himself in the Tower, and Thanos knew the whole thing played on her mind, so when he received a rather desperate plea to head to Eulmore and assist Chai Nuzz in his new role, Thanos had suggested his wife stay behind in the Crystarium and talk things out with their friend. He had actually thought she would protest at being left behind, but instead laughed and shooed him away, pointing out she was too pregnant to be hopping around aetherites at this point anyway.

What he hadn’t expected, when he returned a few days later, was to find his wife contentedly curled up on the overstuffed couch in their suite in the Pendants with G’raha tucked under her arm, head on her shoulder as she soothingly ran a hand through the hair at the base of his ears, nails gentle against his scalp, practically clinging to her with one arm slung around her pregnant belly, the other tucked behind her back, and fast asleep. He’d removed the outer layer of his robes, and Thanos quickly surmised that was to free his white-tipped tail, given how Tria had ranted about it being constrained, the appendage in question draped over the Exarch’s thigh and twitching in his sleep.

Tria was quietly reading aloud from a book he recognised as Norvrandt tales for children, Moren having quietly gifted it to them for the twins upon learning C’trianah liked to read to them in-utero, and Thanos smiled softly at her. She gestured to G’raha with her head, then shook it, a silent message of “I don’t think he gets much sleep, let him rest” and he merely nodded at his wife, half-listening as she continued to read while he quietly made tea for them both.

It was a sign of how relaxed the Exarch seemed to feel in his wife’s presence that he barely stirred except to shift a little closer in her embrace as Thanos set her tea next to her, and Tria pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead in reassurance before tilting her head up for a kiss from Thanos, who quickly obliged.

He settled into the chair next to the couch and smiled as she continued her tale, drinking his tea and relaxing much as the Exarch had, his only concern a mild irritation that he couldn’t settle himself on the opposite side of his wife and embrace her too without disturbing G’raha. But there would be time for that later. Right now, he was content to bask in the soothing presence of his mate, and the seemingly infinite wellspring of love within her.

He was lucky, and he knew it.


	14. Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Part
> 
> I hear part, my brain goes to "What does Rowena want NOW".

Gerolt eyed the Miqo’te pair in front of him, and grinned. “You introduced the missus to Rowena yet?” He asked C’thanos, and C’trianah was overwhelmed with a sudden sense of dread. “She’ll have the book I need for this weapon of hers.” The master blacksmith was practically cackling as Thanos groaned. “Better you than me mate.”

Tria looked puzzled, but followed her husband to Mor Dhona as Gerolt had instructed. The Hyurian woman she was introduced to did not, at first, seem worthy of either her husband’s dour attitude, or Gerolt’s glee at inflicting her upon them. Rowena seemed the firm but fair, wheeler-dealer type of trader she was used to.

That opinion lasted until she returned from Amdapor Keep, robes tattered and singed from her encounter with Anantaboga and quietly handed over the glyph she had been sent for. Rowena shrugged, and slid the book to Tria, but left a hand on it for a moment.

“The glyph is damaged,” She pinned the Miqo’te with a glare, “I’m not handing anything over til I’m sure it’s still useable.”

“Look,” Tria snapped back, exhausted, “That’s how it was when I found it, take it or leave it.”

Rowena broke into a grin and released her hold on the book, commenting on how she liked her attitude. Tria contemplated briefly encasing her in stone.


	15. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - Ache

It was the feeling in her soul when Emet-Selch shot the Crystal Exarch in the back moments after his face had been revealed to them - gut-wrenchingly familiar and deeply missed - and stole the only solution to the poisoned Light within her husband they could see.

It was the grip of the Scion’s hands around her wrists, Thancred on one side, Y’shtola on the other, stopping her from lashing out at the Ascian and dooming both herself and her twins, but also from trying to rescue G’raha Tia, or getting too close to the Light-aspected aether spilling forth from C’thanos so dangerously until Ryne could contain it.

It was the strands of his aether so deeply twined with hers that shifted from his beautiful sea-blue to painful, blinding white as he lost control, sending searing pain across their bond that she could never give voice to, never worry him over even as she confronted the possibility his death would most likely lead to hers.

It was knowing everything they had done, everything they had sacrificed, every hard-fought step and everyone they had lost, could be rendered worthless in an instant, undone by the viper in the nest they themselves had brought home.

It was the sad, haunted look in the Scions eyes when they met hers, the sense that they had almost, almost given up hope of a resolution that didn’t involve either C’thanos’ death, or falling to the Light.

But most of all, it was the soul-deep scream of pain and anger loosed from her lips as his eyes closed, and Emet-Selch stole away in triumph, G’raha Tia slung over his shoulder as a trophy.

And that scream was also a promise.

_You will not win. I will not allow it._


End file.
